Trial By Fire
by Zanna Tinuviel
Summary: The blackness rises up, a tide washing over me, and the fire, and the death, and the heat, and I all disappear... AU-ish Clone Wars short. Ventrobi. Warning: slightly dark. Rated T for attempted suicide/ish. Reuploaded as of 6:12 pm USCT, 1/3/17. I realized I'd messed something up.


**Author's Note: It's been quite a while since I saw the later episodes of** _ **Star Wars: The Clone Wars**_ **and I realize that this short probably does not fit smoothly – if at all - with the canonical storyline. However, following canon to a tee was not my intention in this story, so that's okay. I merely wanted to write out one of my ideas that was knocking around in my head. Think of this as more of an AU, and it will make much more sense. Please keep this in mind. Thank you.**

 **Lyrics from "Afraid of the Dark" by Phildel.**

* * *

 _Holding you close_

 _Feels like a cutthroat._

 _Losing blood, the weakness of_

 _Falling in love…._

* * *

The fire is all around me, the harsh flares of intermixing reds, yellows, oranges. I can feel the Force flowing wildly in it, clear as the intense heat that sears my face. Burning debris and ash pelts down.

But I don't move.

I can't.

I'm mesmerized by it, the raw power. The fury.

My death. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm not running. I've known Dooku plans to kill me, his most faithful servant, Asajj Ventress. I suppose now he won't have to take the trouble.

The incoming heat is making me faint and dizzy. I drop my twin lightsabers, still ignited, watching them gradually bite into the stone floor. More red in a landscape awash with crimson.

The bloody light makes everything surreal.

A chunk of white-hot metal ricochets off my left shoulder, driving me to my knees. Flames dance around me, crazed and hungry.

 _Where did it all come from?_ I think hazily, my fevered brain piecing things together slowly.

I had planned this.

Charges. Detonator. The Jedi. The teasing battle ensuing with Obi-Wan. The hollow in my chest as I thought of what I was about to do.

Thumb on the button.

Pressing.

The explosions.

And now…my death.

It all circled back to that, really.

Smouldering embers rain on me, and I slide to the baking stone.

Will it hurt?

Then my eyelids close, shielding my eyes from the fierce temperature. The heat is a living being, a terrible animal thrusting its teeth and claws into me.

And then I hear it.

A rasping yell.

"Ventress?!"

Coughing. The smoke?

Wait.

 _Who?_

Again, the yell.

Closer.

I don't move. I can't move.

The blackness rises up, a tide washing over me, and the fire, and the death, and the heat, and I all disappear.

* * *

 _Darkness._

Cool air, blessedly cool upon my cracked and irritated skin.

Am I…not….dead?

I crack open one swollen eye.

From what I can make out from the hazy view, I'm on the ground – though I could have guessed as much from the rough grass scraping my hands and face. Stars twinkle coldly above, and beside me….

…..Beside me sits a familiar figure, his creamy robes smeared with soot, eyes closed in meditation.

….

Obi-Wan Kenobi?

I begin to wonder if I really _am_ dead. Because this situation makes no sense.

With a moan, I try to lever myself into a sitting position, triggering a fresh wave of pain. Obi-Wan's hand, alienly gentle, lands on my shoulder and carefully presses me back down.

"I don't think getting up is in the question right now," comes his familiar accented voice.

I don't want to lie there; I want to hurl myself to my feet and run away, never stop running. I want to go back to that inferno.

But…

I also need to know.

So I let him, studying his face as best I can with my impaired vision.

He's closed those bright blue eyes again, gone back to his thoughts. Staring at the ash-dusted strands of ginger hair clinging to his forehead, I take in what a powerfully trusting gesture this is. Even with the Force, a Jedi as experienced as Obi-Wan would never dare to close his eyes on an enemy; _especially_ me.

My head aches too much to puzzle it out – or perhaps I simply don't want to accept the implications.

As though he can sense my probing gaze, Obi-Wan opens his eyes, but says nothing. He knows. He knows what I'm going to ask.

"How –" I break off, coughing, my throat raw.

"When the building went up, I didn't see you come out," he says matter-of-factly, but quietly. "So I went in and pulled you out."

Then, glancing upward as if to gauge the time by the stars, he makes a thoughtful sort of noise.

"I need to leave…will you be able on your –"

"Kenobi," I rasp, glaring at him with as much ire as I can muster, "I am well able to take care of myself."

My voice catches again, and I hack until my airways are clear. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow sceptically. I would dearly love to whack the look off his face, but he stands anyway.

As he turns to go, the question caged in my chest bursts free.

"Why….?"

 _Why did you do it, Obi-Wan? Why did you risk your life to save my own? Why did you walk away from a massive victory in this miserable war? Why?_

And as Obi-Wan Kenobi looks at me, straight in the eyes, and, it seems, right into my mind, I see the answer, written in his blue gaze.

It's the same reason I've never been able to bring myself to kill him, why I've always managed to let him go in the end. The same reason why, every time I've watched him escapes and disappear, I've felt an ache in my chest, an ever-expanding empty place.

I want him to say it, and yet…I pray to the Force he doesn't.

Instead, all he says is, "Life is not a thing to be thrown away so lightly, Asajj." Then, gesturing to a small cloth bag beside me, he continues, "You'll find bacta patches and a few other things in there."

And he turns, striding away, fading slowly into the darkness.

I pull myself painfully into a sitting position, stretching open the mouth of the satchel.

Something within clinks, and I reach in to withdraw –

One of my lightsabers?

The other is there as well, the handles dented and slightly scorched, but intact.

Obi-Wan saved my lightsabers too?

Not only has he rescued one of his greatest enemies from death, but he's also handed her back her own weapons.

I look up at the now-faraway pale smudge that is Obi-Wan Kenobi and I find myself even more lost and confused than I was before.

Something is resonating within me, something new and untainted. I don't know what it is or how to describe it.

But I aim to find out.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi has given me a second chance at things. I have many questions, but I suppose the greatest is….

…..what am I going to do with it?

-Finis-


End file.
